Tropical Pockets
Started the morning with a 6 mile run out to the end of the road on the jetty that separates Doheny from the harbor.
There was some sort of old school VW bus meetup in the Doheny State Beach parking area. I’ve seen these around from time to time. I’ve seen them in the Strand parking lot a couple of times.
It’s a totally beautiful day and warmer than it has been in a couple days. It is supposed to get to the mid 70s today.
I leave for the beach a little after 9 and stop for gas at the Arco just across from the river mouth at Doheny.
When I get to the beach parking lot, things are looking pretty paradisical - smooth ocean surface and crystal clear sky.
I walk down the stairs and try not to invite inner dialog and just allow my self to become absorbed in this environment. It’s a pretty nice environment.
I get to the beach and it’s medium-low tide. Things definitely are not getting any uglier. The Sand Pipers and Curlews are running on the with the waves.
I start to make my way out into the ocean. The waves are about what they were yesterday. A small swell but a swell nonetheless. Clear, smooth, dark blue waves come toward me and then roll over and break. Just beyond the crest is smooth, glassy blue water for as far as one can see. There are a few boats hanging out fairly close to shore as well.
I dive in and start to swim out. The water may be a degree or two warmer than yesterday. The cold comes and goes. I try to swim into the cold and fully feel it on my skin. I’m letting go of the end of the swim. I often find myself thinking of the finish, going home and dinking my coffee. No doubt those will be good times but it’s not what I am here for now.
I reach my southern turn around point and begin heading north. I love staring into this horizon. I always breathe on my left side. Sometimes I think I should train myself to breath on both sides which is optimal for those who care about swim performance. It just feels so weird to breath on the right. I know it is just a matter of practice but can never get myself to do it for more than a few breaths.
I usually prefer looking at the shore side and focusing on the beach and the houses. For one, it helps me maintain direction and it also just gives me something to look at. It also gives me the perception of forward progress. I feel more like I am actually going somewhere.
When I head north, there is just water and sky. I have to look up and ahead every now and then to make sure I am not veering off course. Today I feel nourished by the empty expanse. I often do but am really soaking it in today. I reach deep into the cold and anchor myself to the horizon. I challenge myself not to look up and see how long I can go just staring into this view. On a windless, low surf day like today, it is pretty easy to stay on course.
I’m noticing there are more warm patches as I make my way north. It is interesting to me how some days the water is just a solid temperature and other days there are these tropical pockets interspersed amidst an arctic mass. Today, tropical might be an exaggeration. I think the body welcomes any sensation of warming and perceives it as particularly warm when moving from cold to not so cold.
At one point I pause to take a picture of a couple birds floating near a lobster buoy. As I try to get a picture, one flies off and I catch it mid flight and fairly close.
There is some kind of surf competition going on at Salt Creek. When I reach my northern turn around point, I can hear an announcer in the background and there are several tent-like canopy structures on the shore.
It’s finally come to an end. There is a small group of surfers right where I come to shore.
No need to towel off today. The sun is warm and feels heavenly on my back.
I meet up with my dad for a walk and we swing by the Salt Creek lifeguard tower. It posts the water temperature at 62-63. Hmm. There were definitely patches of 62-63 but that seems high for the median temperature. Then again maybe I am growing soft. My thermometer arrives Tuesday and then at last there will be truth - solid metrics.